Engulf
by suckerforasmile
Summary: Another accident on a crime scene makes Nick realize how much he really cares for the exlab rat. Slash, NG...


Disclaimer: See that? That summary? Yeaaaaahhh...if I owned CSI, there'd be a lot more boy touching and kissing and/or references to these lovely men having a relationship. So...sue? You'll get this shitty fanfiction. 

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1/2

If there was anything that Greg Sanders couldn't stand, it was being awoken in the middle of a slumber he had waited so long to come. But Grissom had called him in, saying that swing shift was already out on the field, day shift had a triple homicide to deal with downtown, and everyone from graveyard was working on the scene as well.

So he had rolled out of bed, managing to make coffee as he rummaged around his dirty room, looking for his clothes. There was a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he pushed it out of his mind as he left his house.

"Sanders!" he heard a voice call roughly as he stepped from his car, rubbing at his eyes. He turned to the voice, wondering why someone would call to him seconds after he exited from the car. But he recognized the person, the person who was holding a gun, pointing it towards Greg.

He suddenly wished he hadn't rushed to get to the scene. Maybe the police could've restrained the young man. "You killed my cousin!" Greg found himself rolling his eyes; another Demetrius James psychotic family member.

But he didn't have time to say anything, and there was a loud noise, someone yelling, and a sudden pain somewhere on the right side of his chest. He felt himself leaning back into the car, sliding down its side until he was sitting on the ground, watching as blood poured through his shirt.

And someone was beside him; there was a familiar twang to the person's voice and he thought maybe, just maybe, it was Nick, but there was blonde hair and it was Sofia. Greg realized what the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach was earlier, and he wished he would've parked by Nick's Tahoe, farther up the street, which he had noticed as he parked.

But it didn't matter anymore because there was a pressure on his side and his surroundings were fading away.

---

Graveyard shift was waiting in the hospital, in the waiting room closest to Greg's assigned room, when he got out of surgery. Jim Brass had came in an hour after the incident, telling them that the man who had shot Greg - by the name of Arik James - was now in custody, awaiting a charge of murder or attempted murder.

Nick Stokes' mind spun at the word. _Murder_. He'd never been on this side of a crime before; at least, not in this sense. There was the beginning of this entire Demetrius James incident, but it wasn't like _this_. He wasn't as worried when that happened, he knew Greg would pull through.

And he did.

But now...he shook his head. _M__urder_. He couldn't lose Greg, not after everything he'd been through. It'd be a shame to see him make it through everything just to lose it all. There was a hand on his shoulder and he jumped, looking up to see Grissom's face, a doctor standing in the middle of the group.

"I'm Doctor Andersen, I performed Mr. Sanders surgery...The bullet did some bad damage and his rib was shattered a bit from impact, but we're optimistic," Nick sighed, relieved. That was better news than he was expecting. "Unfortunately, we couldn't get him from his unconscious state, and he's still knocked out," Grissom nodded as Sara spoke up.

"Can we see him?" she whispered, looking at the floor. The doctor nodded.

"At this time, we'd prefer for no more than two people to go in at once," Nick glanced around, counting. Seven. That left someone in to go alone. He was surprised Sara didn't speak up immediately to go alone. "I'll take the first pair in now,"

Nick watched as Catherine and Sara stood to walk after the doctor. He watched as the remaining bit of his team stood, finally beginning to realize that Greg was going to make it. Nick had faith; he _had _to have faith in Greg. He had to make it through this.

Sara and Catherine came back, replacing Grissom and Warrick. People had paired off, leaving the last place for him. He was surprised he hadn't gone in with Warrick, but someone had to have caught on and told the others about what was going through his head.

As Grissom and Warrick left the room, he couldn't help but feel a little responsible. He outranked Greg, which meant he was at fault for not waiting for him. He had a strange feeling that the neighbor was related to Demetrius James, and he should've called Greg to give him strict instructions to park towards the end of the street, by his Tahoe, safe and sound.

But he didn't. He let the feeling go, and Greg had gotten shot. All because he wasn't watching out for him. He knew that if he spoke a word of this to Greg, or any of the team for that matter, that he'd get some comment about how Greg was a "big boy" and could take care of himself.

Didn't matter. Nick liked to play big brother to Greg. It was probably the closest relationship he'd ever get with Greg, even though it wasn't anything near to what he wanted.

Another hand clamped lightly on his shoulder. Warrick looked down at him, smiling grimly and nodding towards the door. "You can see him,"

He opened his mouth, ready to form the words 'what about Jim and Sofia' when Warrick shook his head. "They insisted you go first. Take as much time as you want, Nick, I'm sure they'll understand," Nick nodded as he left the waiting room, walking beside the doctor, thoughts and words jumbling together in his mind. He was trying to ask how he was doing, but he couldn't and they were already at the room anyway.

"He's right here. You can close the door, use the nurse button if he needs anything. When you leave, alert the nurse at the station there; we don't want him alone," the doctor instructed. Nick nodded, opening the door softly.

He stood for a moment after closing the door, watching Greg's chest carefully. It rose and fell, slightly, and he let out a breath, pleased that he was still breathing, though it was probably the work of the oxygen on the left of his bed.

Nick walked to the bed, standing on the other side of Greg, gazing down at him. He idly wondered what it'd be like to fall asleep next to him every night, fingers tangled in his hair. He reached up to the blonde-brown strands and dragged his fingers through it, surprised at it's softness. He let out a laugh - how could his hair stay so nice after years and years of abuse Greg put it through with all the product?

There was a groaning noise, and for a moment, he wondered if it was Greg. He brought his other hand up and took Greg's, squeezing, hoping for a sign of life. Groan. Silence. Groan. Silence. Groan. It was in a pattern, which meant that it wasn't Greg. It was that stupid machine that was doing some updating around the hospital.

He swallowed, wanting to say something, _anything_, just to get rid of the eerie silence in the room. He squeezed Greg's hand again, sinking into the chair. "You scared me, G," he whispered. He looked so much better than the last time he was in the hopsital, after the DJ incident. Nick hated calling back on it. He could only imagine what it looked like, Greg being beaten while it happened...He never was the one to say he hated people, but the James' family was slowly meeting expectations.

Nick found himself talking, running through the scene, cursing himself for not calling Greg to warn him. It was his responsibility, no one else saw the resemblance, but he did, and he should've called Greg and...

Then something squeezed his hand. Nick's eyes jerked back down to his hand, a pressure against his. He glanced up at the young CSI and felt tears come to the corner of his eyes as Greg met his gaze. "Hey," he whispered.

Nick shook his head, smiling widely, and squeezed Greg's hand again. "Don't talk. You've got a serious injury. I didn't catch all of it, something about shattering a rib and..." Greg just smiled, obeying Nick's instructions. "You scared us, Greg," came the Texan's soft reply.

Greg nodded. _I know_. And Nick resisted the urge to pull him into his arms and never let go. It was the least he could do to let him rest. The doctor's orders popped back into mind, and he pushed the nurse call button.

"Can I help you?" a voice came from the small speaker.

Nick smiled, happy he'd get to tell the nurse. "He's awake."

"Oh, good! I'll send someone down right now," and she was gone. Nick turned his attention back to Greg, who seemed suddenly melancholy. He could've sworn he saw tears forming in the younger CSI's eyes. Suddenly, the blonde took a deep breath and began talking.

"I feel like I'm dying," he whispered, unable to speak for fear of his voice breaking. He turned to the Texan, tears making their way to the corner of his eyes. "I'm dying, aren't I Nick?" Nick bit his lip, afraid to listen to the little voice in his head, the pessimistic one saying that, yes, Greg was dying.

He took a deep breath, squeezing Greg's hand. "No. No, G, you're not dying," Greg nodded, unconvinced.

"I'm dying," he whispered again, blinking, allowing the water to flow from his eyes. He looked back at Nick, fear evident in his eyes. "I don't want to die, Nick,"

"Listen to me," Nick said firmly, voice harsh enough to keep Greg's attention. "There's a gunshot wound on your torso. That doesn't mean you're dying,"

"How many people do we see in this job with gunshots that live, Nick?" came Greg's small voice. Something inside Nick broke, though he wasn't quite sure what. "I'm dying. It's...it's more obvious than I thought, because even you know..."

Nick, as an attempt to lighten the mood, smiled despite the tears running from his own eyes. "Are you saying I'm a bad CSI?"

Greg grinned, sensing Nick's plan, and squeezed his coworker's hand with the little strength he could muster. "No, I'm saying you're a bad liar,"

Back to square one. "You're not dying Greggo. Just because they say you are, doesn't mean you are. You came through the lab explosion. You came through the beating. A gunshot can't kill you, G. It can't,"

Greg swallowed, wincing at the pain it brought with. "Then it's doing a damn good job trying to," Nick wasn't given a chance to reply, as the nurse came in, smile on his face. Nick did his best to return it, wiping away the tears still in his eyes.

"Good to see you up, Mr. Sanders. How're you feeling?"

"Alright," came his weak reply. "Been better,"

The nurse nodded, back turned, getting ready to check vitals. Greg refused to meet anyone's gaze. "I'm sure you have. I have strict orders to wait half an hour after you wake up before giving you anything to eat or drink, but we have these..." he took what seemed to be pink sponges on sticks out of his pocket. "They're not the best, but they'll help with that cottony feeling in your mouth,"

Nick reached out to grab them before Greg had a chance to move. "Thanks," he said, setting them on the table next to the bed. Greg gave him an odd look and smiled as the nurse turned back around.

"I'm sorry, I need his hand," the nurse said, gesturing to Greg's left arm. Nick blushed and pulled away; he had forgotten he hadn't let go.

The nurse continued on with a few instructions and gave him pills and another IV before leaving twenty minutes later. Greg let out a small sigh, and Nick was leaning towards him, words on the tip of his tongue that he didn't want to say unless absolutely necessary. But Greg continued breathing normally, and he let out a sigh himself.

"Have you told the others yet? You've been in here at _least_ half an hour; won't they be worried?" Nick noticed something in Greg's eyes, something he couldn't pinpoint. Disappointment, maybe? He smiled down at the level one and shook his head.

"Warrick told me to take as much time as I wanted. Said they'd understand..." Nick realized that now was most likely the best time to tell him; maybe it'd make the rest of his hospital stay a little easier.

There was a flicker of what appeared to be hope in the back of his eyes before Greg whispered "What are you talking about, Nick, I don't get it..."

Nick resisted the urge to sigh again and closed his eyes. The easiest possible way...He shook his head. _No. No strategy. Just talk._

"When the gunshot rang out across the lawn...it scared me. No one had told me that you were already on your way, just that Grissom was going to call you in to help me out with the lawn. There was blood everywhere so I was grateful for the help. When I turned around, Sofia was running towards you, screaming, and the police were restraining the James' boy,"

"That's right...Was he really related to DJ?" Nick nodded. "Oh."

"And I tried getting there before Sofia, but I couldn't mess any of the blood up; it was still a crime scene...so I had to step carefully, and by the time I made it over there, Sofia had already torn off your shirt and applied pressure around the entrance point,"

Greg groaned. "You guys saw me half naked?" Nick smiled, showing teeth. Only Greg would care about something as small as that. "I don't even want to know what happened to my shirt..." Nick laughed at Greg's expression.

"Sofia had everything taken care of and paramedics were on their way, I couldn't do anything. Just stand there and watch..." Nick shook his head before continuing softly, tears beginning to form in his eyes as he told the story for Greg. Greg was right; he was dying. The next piece in the story proved it. "They lost you, Greg. For five minutes. You were dead for five minutes. When the paramedics said they lost your pulse, I..." he was silent. Nick hated having such little control over his emotions. He could only blink as tears came to his eyes, hands buried with Greg's once again.

But the hand in his squeezed his own, and Greg smiled, encouragingly. Nick glanced down at the warmth on top of his hand and smiled. He wanted this; it had taken him years to understand and three accidents that involved hurting Greg before he knew he was the one who had to make a move. And now was the time. He had to get it out before...before...

"I broke down inside. I couldn't believe it, I wouldn't believe it. You made it through everything else fine, but a gunshot killed you? The only thing that would've made me feel better would be that Arik James would've gone behind bars for murder," Nick shifted in his seat, extremely uncomfortable. "Then they got your pulse back and they got you into the ambulance. Sara was running, ready to get in to make sure you were alright, but because I was closer, I managed to make it in first," Nick blinked, thankful that the tears were refusing to fall. "They really know how to do their job...they had you stablizied five minutes before we made it to the hospital,"

Greg nodded, squeezing Nick's hand again and swallowing. "You said...that you broke down when...when I stopped breathing. Why?" Nick remained silent as he looked down at Greg. He wanted the young CSI to be out of the hospital, back in bed, where none of this took place. He still felt solely responsible, and he just wanted Greg to be okay.

He took a deep breath, ready to speak, when the door opened. Nick turned to it, seeing Catherine, Warrick, Grissom and Sara. Brass and Sofia were standing out in the hallway, looking in.

He turned back to Greg, who seemed melancholy as the team made their way in.

Sara was the first to hug him. "Don't ever do that to us again!" she scolded, slapping Greg's other hand lightly, which made Nick realize he still had hold on Greg's left hand. He began to pull away, but Greg had a tighter grip, proving Nick wasn't allowed to let go.

They stayed for a while, up until the nurse's shift change and the male nurse was replaced with a girl named Alice. Then Grissom said the rest of them should get back to work, knowing Greg was okay. When Nick stood up, he was shot a look by all three women, as well as Grissom, which told him to sit back down.

"We'll process the lawn, Nicky," came Grissom's soft order. Greg was now thoroughly confused. They had called him in, waking him up while he was sleeping, to help Nick process, yet they could afford to leave two of their CSIs behind at the hospital? He shook his head, silence overcoming the room again now they were gone.

Nick's hand still had his in a tight grip, which led Greg to think even more suspiciously. Something was going on, and he intended to find out what.

---

Hours passed, which turned into days, which turned into weeks, and Greg was finally allowed to leave the hospital. Grissom had said someone needed to stay with him until the wound completely healed, just for Greg's case. Before Sara could even open her mouth, Nick volunteered.

"I'll take him in," he said, sending a glare to Sara when she all but threw actual daggers at him. "How long?"

"At least a week and a half, depends on how well he can work on his own. I'll grant you a leave of absence, don't you dare think about coming into work," Grissom looked between Sara and Nick, feeling the sudden tension between them. "Are you two...alright?"

"Yeah, yeah...so...you said there was an important case?" Sara turned towards Grissom expectantly, only to get raised eyebrows. "Come on, we should let Nick get to Greg so he can sign release forms and such. Let's just go, let Nick get to Greg's side," she pulled Grissom by the arm and left, without another word to Nick. Still watching, Nick could see Grissom gently pull her arm off and could only guess that he was asking her why she was acting so weird.

"Hey, G, you ready?" he held a bag of clean clothes Warrick had gotten from the younger male's apartment. Greg grinned at him, licking his lips.

"As ready as I'll ever be. I hate hospitals," he said, taking the bag from Nick and wincing at the weight.

Nick eyed the younger male, confused by the pained look on his face. "Yeah...yeah, I'd imagine...you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine, just...gimme a second..." Greg sat back down on the bed, clutching his side and breathing heavily, wincing with every inhale. Nick remained unconvinced, rushing to Greg's side as he began to fall forward.

"Hey, man, don't do that...you want to get out of here don't you?" he held Greg's face in his hands, looking into his eyes. Nick watched as he blinked slowly and swallowed before nodding. After realizing that his hands were still on the level one's face, Nick coughed awkwardly and pulled away.

Greg blinked and sighed before the bag dropped from his hands. "I need to...just...lay here for a while..." Nick tried not to sound desperate or pissed off when he spoke next.

"Greg, they want you out in five minutes...that's not even enough time to fall asleep," he said, sitting next to the blonde and letting Greg lean against him.

"Mmphf..." Greg mumbled, giving Nick obvious signs that he was falling asleep. Nick sighed, admitting defeat, and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

"Yeah, Warrick? Can you have someone pick up my car at the hospital? I don't think Greg's gonna be able to get in it. No, no, yeah, he's fine, just...worn out," Greg's soft snores proved Nick's theory. "Yeah. Alright. Thanks. Tell Griss I'll call him later to update him," he shut his phone before laying it on the bed and picking Greg up. "Come on, G, time to head on home," he set the blond in the wheelchair the nurse had conviently placed next to the bed.

"Home?" came Greg's mumbled reply. He tried to look up at Nick, only to discover that his neck was too weak. Nick had forgotten that he was yet to be informed that he'd be rooming at Nick's house.

"Oh, yeah, I...did the liberty of volunteering for you to room with me until you're completely healed," he admitted, pushing Greg from the room, wondering why they were letting him instead of a nurse push him out.

"Aw, come on, man, I can take care of myself..." he said, voice quiet and slurred as he tried to keep his head up. Nick, despite the situation, was amused.

"Yeah? Prove it," Greg attempted to support his weight with his hands as he tried to stand, only to fail and fall back into the wheelchair. "See, you're incapable,"

"Am not," came Greg's weak voice, his best attempt at continuing an argument.

"I'm hurt, Greg. You don't want to room with me? I thought we were friends,"

"Best friends. Which is why we're not rooming together already,"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Best friends don't room together, ruins relationships. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. Are we almost out?" Greg said, changing the subject quickly. He wasn't sure why he said it; he said stupid stuff in front of Nick a lot. Sick of making a fool out of himself, he let his head roll to the left without trying to stop it.

"You've got to sign a few papers, then we're good to go," Nick said, wheelchair coming to a sudden stop. Greg felt the air move, and assumed that Nick had pushed a button, probably for an elevator.

A sudden thought hit Greg. "No one told my parents, did they?" he asked frantically, life suddenly back in him. He grabbed Nick's arm, getting an alarmed look from the CSI, which turned to amusement. "I'm serious, they'll freak out if they knew I was attacked on the job again,"

"I'm sure that if anyone told them that they made a better story, probably one that didn't go along with one of the James' kids as the shooter. Now can you let go of my arm? You're cutting off circulation, G," Greg loosened his grip, but didn't let go. He was anxious and all he wanted to do was go back upstairs to his warm bed, and just lie there with Nick for a few hours...

He'd have to remember to request that when they arrived at Nick's apartment. After all, he had just gotten out of the hospital, how could Nick say no? They exited the elevator, Greg still wondering if he should bother.

"Oh, Mr. Sanders, how are you feeling?" a nurse asked, falling into step with nick.

"Peachy," Greg attempted to turn, failing miserably. He settled for a dry laugh. "I'm finally getting out," Nick caught the nurse smiling.

"Try not to come visit too soon, alright? Let that wound heal first,"

"Aww, here I wanted to come back and see you," jealousy coursed through Nick, though he wasn't quite sure why. Greg flirted with _everyone_; so why was this nurse any different? She giggled before turning a corner, letting Nick carry on alone.

---

By the time they arrived at Nick's apartment, after getting clothes from Greg's, the ex-lab tech was asleep on his feet. "Alright, come on," Nick set down Greg's bag, taking him by the upper arm. "Sorry, I don't have a guest room,"

"Where'll you sleep?" Greg asked groggily, unable to tell where they were going. His eyes were already closed and, despite obvious efforts, he was falling into Nick.

"I'll take the couch, don't worry about me, you're the one with the injury," Nick said, opening his bedroom door and leading Greg to the bed, who fell once his knees hit the edge.

"No, man, you can sleep in here," Greg mumbled, searching for blankets. "Besides, I'd rather have you in here than out there,"

"Oh yeah?"

"In case of emergencies...or..." Greg trailed off, determined to not think about nightmares. It had taken him ages to get over the initial incident with Demetrius...he didn't want to relive it once again through his dreams.

"Yeah...yeah, okay, just let me..."

"Just get in, Stokes...I don't care if you have to brush your teeth or change your underwear, just..." he sighed when there wasn't a response from Nick. "I _need_ you, man," Silence. Greg thought he had lost him, only to be proven wrong when the bed sank in, and a sigh came from the other side. Greg continued to lay there, on top of the bedding, utterly shocked his reasoning had worked.

Before Greg could think, a blanket was engulfing him, Nick suddenly closer than he had been seconds before. The little bit of light that hit Nick's face from the crack in the shade told Greg exactly why he was so close. He settled again, moving the blanket lower so he could lay his head on Nick's chest, instinctively wrapping an arm around his waist. An unexpected arm came to rest on his shoulders, putting Greg's mind at ease immediately.

"Thanks for this, Nick," Greg said, voice cutting through the silence of the room.

"Anytime, Greg," Nick's soft voice came from above his head. Greg let his eyes close, emitting a sigh, and, for once, in the past month, falling asleep comfortable. And, for the first time in a long time, falling asleep happy.

------

TBC...


End file.
